Dog
by greenleaf-in-bloom
Summary: We've seen the thoughts running through Harry's head that night he discovered his godfather was good. But what about Sirius? Why did he behave how he did? Rated PG for minor language.


Dog  
  
In the deepening shades of evening, I could see the cat ahead of me. He was slinking around, and even from the distance that separated the two of us, I could smell his sense of urgency. I started to lope toward him, and it was then that I heard the voices. I recognized one of them - the boy, the boy, I thought frantically. That's the boy who had Peter.  
  
"What's the matter with him?"  
  
And then I knew, even though I couldn't see them. They've got him. Oh, in the name of all the Gods that ever were, they have him.  
  
They also had James' invisibility cloak. So Harry was there too.  
  
Shit. I don't want to hurt him.  
  
I heard the girl - Hermione? - I heard her call for the cat to go away, but it was too late - I saw him - he flew from under the cloak and streaked away. So he knew too.  
  
They appeared, all three, after Peter ran, the boy and Crookshanks chasing him, the girl and Harry chasing the boy. Don't kill him, cat, I thought, feeling the hatred boil behind my eyes, the pressure escalating horribly. Don't kill him. That's my job.  
  
But the boy - Ron, I heard the called - kicked Crookshanks away and snatched Peter.  
  
Damn it! I was too slow now, too weak. What if I had to hurt him? It wasn't his fault - he didn't know that his rat was the man who killed his best friend's parents.  
  
The other two caught up as Ron held Peter in his pocket. Shit, shit, shit -  
  
"Ron - come on - back under the cloak. Dumbledore - the Minister - they'll be coming back out in a minute -"  
  
I felt myself tremble as I ran. They were coming. How could they know I was here?  
  
Remus. Remus. Remus is here.  
  
Shit.  
  
They had seen me. I saw panic in Harry's eyes, confusion in his friends'. Had they told him? Had Remus told him? Please, no. Hold to your stubborn pride, Remus, hold to it and let Peter go. Hold to your shame of what you are and what we did for you. Hold to those things that I always wished you could release.  
  
Harry's hand moved to inside his robes. I'm sorry! I cried out in my mind to him. I leapt, landing on top of him, knocking him to the ground. It hurt me to do that. James' boy. even in avenging James I betrayed him.  
  
The Willow was my escape. I had to get away from Dumbledore and Fudge. I was growling, trying to frighten them, run, Harry, run!  
  
But he didn't, and I saw terror form in his face. So he did know. He knew what everyone thought they knew. That I was here to kill him. Oh, Harry, I don't want to make you afraid. But I'm doing this to help you. I have to save you from him.  
  
I saw him climb to his feet, a hand to his chest where one of my paws had slammed into him. I had hurt him. Damn. But it wasn't him I wanted. I shoved him to the side, apologizing in silent screams and still growling. I grabbed the red-haired boy's arm, holding it tight, pulling him. They couldn't stop me now. I would have Peter on his knees soon, praying for a quick death such as the one he gave James. He doesn't deserve to die the way James did. And I do not have a wand.  
  
I dragged him into the shadow of the Willow, hoping that the others would run, run for help, run from fear, run for anything, just run. But they ran right into the shadow, and the last thing I saw as I dragged the boy into the darkness was Harry falling to the ground as an enormous branch whipped him cruelly on the side of his head.  
  
Ron had hooked his leg around a root, trying desperately to escape. I barked, pulling, trying to get him to let go.  
  
I heard an enormous crack and he screamed. I had broken his leg. No! This wasn't right. This wasn't what I wanted to be doing. I just wanted Peter.just Peter.  
  
I pulled him through the tunnel as fast as I could. He was moaning, calling Harry's name weakly. "No," I heard him cry. "They'll save me."  
  
We were in the Shrieking Shack. I released his arm. He scrambled to go, but I put my front paws on his chest, and he froze. I hesitated, but then I saw the lump in his pocket, quivering underneath his hands. I transformed.  
  
He gasped, wordless, and let out a soft whimper. "Don't hurt him," he whispered. "Don't hurt him."  
  
Startled, I fought to regain my composure. "You know who I am." It wasn't a question, and it was completely unintentional.  
  
"You killed his parents!" Ron cried softly. I jerked, but grasped his arm and began to pull him up the stairs. "Wasn't that enough?"  
  
"You haven't heard everything." My voice was rough from lack of use, and from emotion. I fought back tears. Yes, I killed Lily and James, and now I'll kill Peter too. I'll be truly damned.  
  
"I have," the boy whispered. "So has Harry. We heard everything you did. For You-Know-Who. Just don't hurt him, pl -"  
  
He stopped suddenly, and I let go of his arm. He collapsed onto the floor. The boards creaked. I went over and closed the door. Listening for a moment, I sighed. I could hear nothing. I moved, into the shadows suddenly, because my face had twisted. Harry thought I had killed them. And I had. But he thought.he.  
  
The door burst open and Harry rushed in, Hermione right behind him. They gasped as one and hastened to Ron's side, asking him in a panicked voice questions I didn't hear. Oh, damn it, Harry, why do you have to be so much like James? I could see his face, defined clearly, those eyes taunting me, even though they had both missed my presence.  
  
They turned at Ron's words, something else unheard, and I closed the door again. Peter cannot run. Peter cannot hide. Even if Harry has to see it, I have him. And I will die afterwards. No matter what. So he cannot know the truth, or it will hurt him more. I must be cruel. I must act like they expect me to.  
  
I grinned, but it felt foreign. I felt the unfamiliar wand in my hand. "Expelliarmus!" Yes, that was it. Their wands flew into my hand. I stepped closer, staring at Harry and seeing James and feeling my heart ache, for him, for them, for me, for Remus, for James and Lily, and nothing, nothing for the two murderers among the Marauders.  
  
James is dead. Nothing can stop that now. Nothing can bring him back. Nothing except remembering, after a sense. So I'll remember. I'll think of him, up to my last moment. I won't give his son the ache I feel.  
  
He stared back at me, and for a moment, he wasn't angry or frightened or sad. He just looked. And I had to stop that. I had to make him hate me, so he would be glad when I died.  
  
"I thought you'd come and help your friend. Your father would have done the same for me. Brave of you, not to run for a teacher. I'm grateful.it will make everything much easier." The lie rang in my ears. It would make things ten times as hard. It would kill me to do this, but then, I was going to die anyway. Better to do it this way? I didn't know, and for the moment, didn't care. The hour was here, finally. James would be avenged tonight, and I. I would get the fate I always deserved.  
  
It worked. Harry's expression changed to one of pure hatred. I saw the red in his eyes, the insane amount of fury, outrage. His hand flexed, as if he wanted his wand. He stepped toward me, and I almost flinched. Luckily for me, I never had to make the decision of what to do. Ron and Hermione grabbed his arms. A roaring filled my ears. The girl, looking horrified, and frightened, whispered, "No, Harry!" He strained against them, but the other boy was the one who spoke to me.  
  
"If you want to kill Harry, you'll have to kill us too!"  
  
I might have shivered. I don't know. I just suddenly pictured James' body, and Lily's, and Harry's small form in Hagrid's arms, and then I remembered the day the Marauders discovered that James was a target, Peter's words. Those were Peter's words, altered only slightly. It was too similar to matter. The hairs rose on my neck, and Peter's voice rang in my head. "If he wants to kill James, Headmaster, he'll have to kill us too."  
  
"Lie down," I said quietly, my voice seeming to echo into emptiness. A numbness had suddenly filled me, and my voice was soft. "You will damage that leg even more." No! They have to hate me, completely and totally.  
  
"Did you hear me?" he cried, holding Harry's shoulder tightly to stay up. "You'll have to kill all three of us!"  
  
Stop saying that! I wanted to scream to him, but I kept my composure. I'd waited too long.  
  
"There'll be only one murder here tonight." I grinned even more widely. It hurt my mouth. I hadn't tried to smile for more than twelve years.  
  
"Why's that?" Harry said bitterly, still straining against his friend's hands. "Didn't care last time, did you? Didn't mind slaughtering all those Muggles to get at Pettigrew - What's the matter, gone soft in Azkaban?" The sheer loathing in his voice quelled me. I couldn't speak, and I wondered, not for the first time, how Peter knew what I would do.  
  
"Harry, be quiet!" the girl whimpered, but Harry ignored her.  
  
"HE KILLED MY MUM AND DAD!" he screamed, breaking free with a sudden effort and throwing himself at me. Gryffindor, he's a Gryffindor, he's just like James -  
  
I couldn't raise the wands. I couldn't point a wand at him, because I saw his father inside him, and I wouldn't be able to do anything. Let him think it was an accident, that he startled me - that -  
  
He slammed into me, his fist colliding with my head, his other hand closing on my wrist, pushing the wands away. We fell back, into the wall, hard. I saw stars for a moment, and a blast of sparks flew from the wand, barely missing his face. Peter. It doesn't matter anymore; I just have to get to Peter. The girl and Ron were screaming, I was writhing, trying to escape from Harry, but he held my arm tight, punching me, slamming his fist into me again and again and again, and all I could think was that I deserved every instant of it for doing this.  
  
But he had to hate me. I reached with my free hand, grabbing his throat. "No.I've waited too long." He choked, and I prayed for something to happen so I could stop doing this. This was James' boy. This was Harry, for God's sake, and I was hurting him.  
  
Hermione kicked me, and Ron threw himself on my hand, and I released him, groaning with pain. Harry fought his way free, toward his wand, but the cat; the cat was there, sinking those razor-claws into Harry's arm, then darting at Harry's wand.  
  
"NO YOU DON'T!" Harry bellowed, kicking. Crookshanks leapt to the side, and Harry snatched up his wand. "Get out of the way!" he cried, and they did, fighting their way free of me. I had been trying to get at Ron's pocket, at Peter. The two of them leapt back, Hermione grabbing the other two wands, Ron crawling onto the bed.  
  
Breathing hard and fast, I lay sprawled on the floor against the wall. Harry walked nearer and nearer, pointing his wand at my chest.  
  
"Going -" I tried to say, but my voice failed for a moment. I tried again immediately. "Going to kill me, Harry?" I managed in a whisper. Harry stopped right above me. Yes. He was.  
  
"You killed my parents." His voice shook.  
  
I stared at him, forcing pain and pity and tears from my eyes. "I don't deny it." What? What do I say now? He deserves to know. He'll kill me if I don't tell him. "But if only you knew the whole story."  
  
"The whole story?" He repeated my words, a cruel tinge to his voice. "You sold them to Voldemort. That's all I need to know." Oh, God, oh, God. He said the name, yes, and he. that hurt, Harry.  
  
"You've got to listen to me," I told him urgently, letting it show in my face. I wanted to tell him he'd die if he didn't, but that sounded like a threat. "You'll regret it if you don't. you don't understand." No. I hope you never do. I hope you never have to.  
  
"I understand a lot better than you think." His voice wavered dangerously now, and tears pricked in his eyes. "You never heard her, did you? My mum.trying to stop Voldemort killing me.and you did that.you did it."  
  
I wanted to cry, suddenly, just to sob on the floor, but I couldn't. He'd heard it. The dementors.and that, too, was because of me. The dementors would all be at Azkaban otherwise.  
  
I'm doing this to save his life.  
  
Crookshanks leapt onto my chest suddenly, positioning himself over my heart. He looked at me, and I knew that he understood. I wondered suddenly if he was actually human, and Transfigured, but the thought fled.  
  
"Get off," I muttered, trying to shove at him, but he dug his claws into my robes and looked up at Harry. The girl let out a gasping sob.  
  
Harry stared at us - Crookshanks and I - and I saw his knuckles whiten. He raised his wand. But the seconds stretched, and I felt my heartbeat as I stared at him. He couldn't do it, could he? If a thirteen-year-old can kill.if Harry can kill.I hope he can't, and not for my sake alone.  
  
Footsteps. Shit! Dumbledore? Fudge? Or even.Remus?  
  
Oh, God, no!  
  
"WE'RE UP HERE! WE'RE UP HERE - SIRIUS BLACK - QUICK!" Hermione screamed. I jerked, and Crookshanks almost slid off my chest. Footsteps, thundering up the stairs. Harry still didn't move, and I saw that he would not be the one to kill me.  
  
Red sparks, and the door opened, and the face was bloodless and blurred as he hurtled in, and he was older than I could ever imagine, but it was Remus, and I wanted to throw myself onto his shoulder and cry, and cry, oh, my friend, my only friend, but all I could do was lie there. I felt tears in my eyes. His eyes flickered over us all.  
  
"Expelliarmus!" he cried, and the wands flew to him. He caught them all, of course, and moved to stand across into the room, his eyes fixed on me, looking for all the world like he could crumple now.  
  
"Where is he, Sirius?"  
  
Something strange stirred in me, and my throat went dry. He knew, for all that ever was and is and will be, thank God, thank God for you, Remus, God, he knew! Harry, confused, looked at Remus. Very slowly, I pointed at Ron.  
  
"But then." he muttered, and I could see it turning in his head, could see the conclusion coming. "Why hasn't he shown himself before now? Unless." His eyes widened. I wanted to cry, more than ever now. An indescribable feeling filled me. I would succeed. And maybe I would even live. "Unless he was the one.unless you switched.without telling me?"  
  
I nodded, staring at him.  
  
"Professor," Harry said loudly. He didn't get it. Of course not. "What's going on -" But Remus was moving towards me, staring into my eyes. He seized my hand, and I felt his, callused and rough. He pulled me to my feet, and I hardly noticed Crookshanks fall off. And he embraced me hard, like a brother found after years thought to be dead.  
  
I hugged him back fiercely, closing my eyes and feeling a tear fall from my eye without touching my skin, onto his robes. Remus, Remus, thank God, my brother, my brother, I'm sorry. How could I have ever suspected you?  
  
"I DON'T BELIEVE IT!" Hermione screamed. I stiffened, and Remus let go. The girl had stood and was pointed, eyes half-wild with disbelief, at my only friend. "You - you -"  
  
"Hermione -" he began.  
  
"- you and him!"  
  
"Hermione, calm down -"  
  
"I didn't tell anyone! I've been covering up for you!" Oh, God, I thought, she knows he's a werewolf, and the rest of them don't. She must be smart. She must be like James, too.  
  
"Hermione, listen to me, please!" Remus shouted, voice urgent. "I can explain -" I looked at Harry, though, and he was shaking, staring at his teacher with fury. "I TRUSTED YOU," he shouted, voice trembling uncontrollably. "AND ALL THIS TIME YOU'VE BEEN HIS FRIEND!"  
  
"You're wrong," Remus told them quietly, and it hurt to hear him say that. "I haven't been Sirius' friend, but I am now.let me explain." Yes, better for him to explain. I couldn't. I was staring again at Ron, and the lump in his pocket.  
  
"NO!" Hermione screamed, and I flinched. "Harry, don't trust him, he's been helping Black get into the castle, he wants you dead too - he's a werewolf!"  
  
So, I was right. They didn't know.  
  
There was a painful silence. I looked at Remus too, dragging my eyes away from Peter. Remus looked white, but calm.  
  
"Not at all up to your usual standard, Hermione," he said quietly. Yes, she was a clever one, Hermione. "Only one out of three, I'm afraid. I have not been helping Sirius get into the castle and I certainly don't want Harry dead." A strange sort of shiver passed across his face. My heart ached for him. How hard it had always been for him to admit this. Harry had trusted him - respected him - what if he, like most wizards, was prejudiced against werewolves? "But I won't deny that I am a werewolf."  
  
Ron tried to get up, and I looked back at him. He failed, however, to stand. His leg was broken badly. I felt a fresh surge of guilt and anger at myself. Falling back with a soft cry, he closed his eyes. Remus started forward, an expression of worry for the boy painted all over his face, but Ron managed, "Get away from me, werewolf!" and even if they didn't see it, I saw Remus' crushed expression. He had hoped, along with me, that they wouldn't do this to him.  
  
But they still thought I was a murderer and he an accomplice - perhaps even that he'd helped kill Lily and James.  
  
Remus stopped, and turned to Hermione hesitantly. "How long have you known?" he asked softly.  
  
My mind wandered for a moment, and I thought about Lily and James and everything I had done. I didn't deserve Remus' friendship, and I didn't deserve to be here, and I didn't deserve to be Harry's godfather - oh, how long it had been since I thought about that.  
  
But mostly I remembered James. There was so much for me to remember - we had been friends almost right away when we met after the Sorting. He had been extremely strange-looking, with black hair that stuck up exactly like Harry's, and gray eyes. He had been sort of short, too, I remembered, but strong - I knew Harry was too, I thought, letting pain seep into my thoughts and feeling what would be livid bruises soon. He'd loved Quidditch, and God knew Harry did too. I'd seen him practicing on the field with his team, and sent him the Firebolt -  
  
Harry's furious shout broke my concentration for a moment. "AND HE WAS WRONG! YOU'VE BEEN HELPING HIM ALL THE TIME!"  
  
I crossed over to the bed, near Ron, sitting and putting my head in one trembling hand. Crookshanks came beside me - I could hear him purring - and Ron tried to shift away. But it didn't matter anymore, because I started to remember again, my shoulders shaking silently.  
  
I heard some of their talk. Remus had seen me on the Marauder's Map, one of many artifacts we had made. It had been one of James' favorites. But when I looked up again was when I heard Remus said evenly, "Do you think I could have a look at the rat?"  
  
A couple more sentences, but they didn't matter - all that mattered was Peter, coming out of the pocket. Crookshanks stood on my knee and hissed quietly.  
  
Lupin approached silently. His chest wasn't rising and falling. He had stopped breathing, for the moment, staring intently at Peter, and knowing - knowing for certain, once and for all.  
  
"What? What's my rat got to do with anything?" Ron asked, frightened and confused, pulling Peter closer to him.  
  
"That's not a rat," I said. Remus and Harry and Hermione all looked at me, as if they'd forgotten I was there.  
  
"What d'you mean? Of course he's a rat!"  
  
"No, he's not," Remus said, steadying his voice. "He's a wizard."  
  
"An Animagus," I agreed, trembling with barely contained rage, "by the name of Peter Pettigrew."  
  
There was a moment of silence, and it was my turn to hold my breath. Then Ron said faintly, "You're both mental."  
  
"Ridiculous!" Hermione breathed.  
  
"Peter Pettigrew's dead!" Harry said. "He killed him twelve years ago!" He pointed at me, and my face twitched. I flexed my hands. I had to do it. Now. I had to do it, before they could stop me, before I could question my morals.  
  
"I meant to, but little Peter got the better of me," I growled. My voice was doglike - low and guttural and rough - and my teeth were bared. "Not this time, though!"  
  
I lunged at him, not caring that Crookshanks had been thrown to the floor, not caring that Ron was yelling, that I had hurt him again, just grabbing for Peter.  
  
"Sirius, NO!" Remus yelled, leaping forward and grabbing my arms from behind. I was groping almost blindly for fur - for the rat. But Remus grabbed me, pulling me back. I fought at him, but he was far too strong. I had grown weak in Azkaban, and he had his wolfish strength. "WAIT - you can't do it just like that! They need to understand - we've got to explain -" He had twisted me around so that I could see his eyes, but I avoided them, not caring. I couldn't see anything but James' dead eyes, staring up at me.  
  
"We can explain afterwards!" I shouted, struggling. One of my hands was free, and I reached with it, clawing outward toward Peter. The little rat was scratching Ron in his attempts to escape.  
  
"They've - got - a - right - to - know - everything!" my friend panted, holding my arm back and my shoulder of the reaching hand. A mad haze had taken me, and I could see Peter only. "Ron's kept him as a pet! There are parts of it even I don't understand! And Harry -you owe Harry the truth, Sirius!"  
  
I couldn't deny it. I stopped fighting him, staring at Peter still. Tears stung my eyes again. I wanted now to look at Harry, but I couldn't bear to see his expression. "All right, then," I said, voice restricted. "Tell them whatever you like. But make it quick, Remus. I want to commit the murder I was imprisoned for." Yes. Die, Peter. You deserve a fate worse than death. Burn in Hell for eternity, you heartless bastard. You rat.  
  
"You're nutters, both of you," Ron said suddenly. "I've had enough of this. I'm off."  
  
My eyes shifted for a split second to Harry. He seemed determined to hear Remus out.  
  
Ron tried to get up with little success at first, but he never got a chance to completely. Remus raised his wand, pointing it at Peter. "You're going to hear me out, Ron," he said coolly. "Just keep a tight hold on Peter while you listen."  
  
"HE'S NOT PETER, HE'S SCABBERS!" Ron's voice was a bit hoarse now, and he tried to shove Peter back into his pocket. But he couldn't, and he swayed, almost falling. Harry caught his friend and pushed him back onto the bed. Ignoring my stare at Peter, Harry turned to Remus.  
  
"There were witnesses who saw Pettigrew die," he said carefully. "A whole street full of them."  
  
"They didn't see what they thought they saw!" I insisted.  
  
"Everyone thought Sirius killed Peter," Remus agreed, nodding slowly. "I believed it myself - until I saw the map tonight. Because the Marauder's Map never lies.Peter's alive. Ron's holding him, Harry."  
  
Harry's eyes shifted, not to Peter, but to Ron, and they seemed to make a silent agreement. I stiffened. Were they going to try to make a break for it?  
  
But Hermione spoke, for the first time in a while, as if trying to be persuasive. Her voice quavered.  
  
"But Professor Lupin.Scabbers can't be Pettigrew.it just can't be true, you know it can't."  
  
"Why can't it be true?" Remus asked, a glint in his eyes. I looked around again. Things seemed so hopeless for a moment, but Remus seemed confident. I wished he would share it with me.  
  
"Because.because people would know if Peter Pettigrew would be an Animagus." I stopped listening again. It didn't really matter. I just wanted to kill him. I didn't care if it was wrong, although I don't think it was.  
  
Time seemed to move far slower than normal. "If you're going to tell them the story, get a move on, Remus," I snarled insistently. "I've waited twelve years, I'm not going to wait much longer."  
  
"All right," he said, sighing heavily. "But you'll have to help me, Sirius. I only know how it began."  
  
The door opened suddenly. They turned and stared at it. Remus moved over to look out. There was no one there. I was perplexed, but I didn't particularly care. I just wanted this to be all over. Remus started telling the story, and I was patient, only half listening. Harry seemed astonished when Remus told about James and Peter and I becoming Anamagi, but I was getting impatient. "Hurry up, Remus."  
  
"I'm getting there, Sirius." he said calmly, and continued. I was quickly losing my patience. My eyes were on Peter, and he seemed to tire of trying to escape, but those eyes kept darting around, frantic. Then a line caught my attention. ".so, in a way, Snape's been right about me all along."  
  
Not having really heard the context, I was startled. "Snape?" I asked callously, looking up at Remus for the first time in a long time. "What's Snape got to do with it?"  
  
"He's here, Sirius," my friend said heavily. "He's teaching here as well.Professor Snape was at school with us. He fought very hard against my appointment to the Defense Against Dark Arts job. He has been telling Dumbledore all year that I am not to be trusted.you see, Sirius here played a trick on him which nearly killed him, a trick which involved me -"  
  
I snorted. "He deserved it," I said disdainfully. "Sneaking around, trying to find out what we were up to.hoping he could get us expelled."  
  
Remus explained to the children about the trick as I sat there, growing more and more uneasy. I had always afterwards felt guilty for how much trouble I had almost gotten Remus in. He being a werewolf, he could have been executed.  
  
"So that's why Snape doesn't like you," said Harry slowly, "because he thought you were in on the joke?"  
  
"That's right," said a voice I recognized instantly. A cold, sneering face to match the voice presented itself as Snape pulled off the invisibility cloak and held his wand pointing steadily at Remus.  
  
Hermione screamed, and I leapt to my feet, ready to do something.  
  
"I found this at the base of the Whomping Willow," said Snape, tossing aside the cloak. I watched it fall to the ground, its silvery liquidness folding into a small heap. The greasy man kept his wand pointed right at Remus' heart. "Very useful, Potter, I thank you."  
  
And all I saw was a Death Eater, a murderer. Just like Peter.  
  
Not for the last time, I wondered if he'd known all along that it was Pettigrew. Not for the last time, I wondered whether killing him before could have saved James.  
  
And as I stared at the children, and at Remus, and at that rat in Ron's hands, and then at Snape, I wondered, not for the last time, what I had become. 


End file.
